Foreign and Domestic
by NeitherSparky
Summary: A sort of sequel to One Bug, Two Bug. The circus bugs find out about Tuck and Roll's past.
1. Chapter One

**Foreign and Domestic**  
a _Bug's Life_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read

_**Chapter One**_

_"Huvri jutti ipsanivich! Greeti killonowat!" _

_"Trev brittpa chandef! Latva frezzi frinka!"_

Rosie put her hands to her head. "Make them stop," she groaned.

Slim grabbed Tuck, and Francis grabbed Roll. Just in time - the two pillbugs looked about ready to bite oneanother.

"That's _enough_," Slim told them, but was naturally ignored.

"Geez, what're they fighting about this time, anyways?" wondered Francis.

"Who knows?" said Heimlich distractedly from where he was sorting some leaves.

"Not us, that's for sure," grumbled Francis. He released Roll, who curled up with a _pop_ and tumbled out of the tent. Slim gingerly put Tuck down, and the pillbug also curled up and followed his brother. "You know, it might be _nice_," the ladybug went on, mostly to himself, "if we could actually, I don't know, _communicate_ with our own troupemates."

Gypsy smoothed her antennae and sat on a piece of artgum eraser next to her husband. "We get along," she pointed out. "We have always managed."

"Well, _they_ don't get along," grumped Francis.

"Don't complain, Red." P.T. sprang into the tent, holding a small wad of cash. "They're the best tumbling act in town. Not that they're miracle workers - Just _look_ at this!" he announced, waving the wad. "_This_ is _all_ we made last night!"

"P.T.," said Slim, "just how much of that is _ours?_"

The flea clutched the cash protectively. "I haven't balanced the books yet," he retorted. "Just wait until payday." P.T. strode to the middle of the tent, one hand to his chin. "Worse yet," he said at last, "I hear there's another circus, just rolled into town before dawn."

Francis groaned. "We don't need that kind of competition."

"Vat shall ve do?" Heimlich fretted.

"It doesn't matter," interjected Rosie quickly. "We've already given one show here. We have word of mouth on our side."

Slim nodded. "And if it means only our audience of last night will visit our competitors, we have nothing to worry about," he said drily. "How many did we have, P.T.? Five, maybe six?"

P.T. gritted his teeth. "I decline to answer," he responded.

"P.T.," said Gypsy before another argument could begin, "we were wondering if we might be able to gather pine needles today?"

The flea frowned. "Time to start decorating for the Solstace already, huh? Well, I suppose you guys can go. I've got the crew working on the props and the wagon. Just be here twenty minutes before showtime. I have to hit the books." And with that P.T. leapt out of the tent.

"Oh boy!" enthused Heimlich, his worry about the other circus forgotten. "I luf gathering the needles for the Vinter Solstace!"

Rosie laughed. "That's the kind of spirit the Solstace is all about," she told the butterfly. "Wish we could see more of it around here."

"Hey!" shouted Francis. "You're talkin' 'bout _me_, aren't ya?"

"Come along then,"said Manny, finding a cloth sack among some props. "Let us go now, before the dew dries."

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

They returned at noon, Dim's back piled high with fragrant pine needles. Slim and Francis carried a small pinecone between them. Tuck and Roll, whom the others had found and easily persuaded to come along, followed behind the group, occasionally chucking gravel at eachother and laughing uproariously.

When they reached the tent, Rosie, who was at the front of the procession, stopped short. "That's odd," she said.

"What is?" Francis wanted to know.

Rosie nodded towards the tent. "Listen."

Everyone listened. Tuck and Roll, realising that everyone else had stopped talking, fell silent and listened as well.

Slim frowned. "Who is that in there talking to P.T.?" he wondered aloud.

Heimlich shrugged. "He does not usually talk to anyone unless it is about money," he pointed out.

Manny nodded. "Then that must be what it is about."

"Should we wait outside, do you think?" asked Gyspy.

"Maybe we should," said Rosie. Everyone walked to the side of the tentflap and sat down on the assorted toothpicks, pencil stubs, and other junk that littered the ground there.

"It's going to be quite a Solstace," said Slim in an attempt to get the conversation started up again.

"Ja, it sure is!" Heimlich found a dry leaf on the ground and began munching on it. "We have enuf pine needles for three Solstaces."

"Yeah. And maybe this year the pinecone won't get knocked into the candle and burned up in a raging inferno." Francis glared pointedly at Tuck and Roll. The oblivious pillbugs were arguing again.

Rosie nudged the ladybug. "That was an honest accident," she insisted.

Francis rolled his eyes. "Honestly dumb."

"I'm telling you, Mr. Farkas, you've got the wrong circus." P.T.'s voice drifted outside and was immediately thereafter followed by its owner. "Why don't you try the next town over, eh?" the flea called into the tent.

Instead of replying, the insect P.T. was speaking to pushed the tentflap aside and stepped out. He was a tall, dark cockroach wearing an impressive tophat and clutching an aged, silver-topped cane in one of his four hands. Another hand held a cigarrette in an expensive-looking holder, and he waved this grandly. "Nonsense," he spoke, his voice oily-smooth and thickly accented - it sounded like Eastern European. "I am certain that this is the very circus I have been searching for."

The circus performers instinctively shrank away from this sinister-looking bug, and Tuck and Roll disappeared altogether behind a nearby weed.

"Yeah?" P.T. went on defensively. "Prove it!"

"P.T.!" hissed Rosie urgently to the flea. "What is going on?"

P.T. glowered. "This nutcase says that - "

"Here is proof," interrupted Mr. Farkas, pulling a rolled-up poster, yellow with age, out from under one of his long wings. "You see?" he said, unrolling the poster for all to see, "there they are."

Everyone scanned the poster. There was a representation of somone who was clearly Farkas in the center, and he was surrounded by other images: a tarantula confronting a savage-looking scorpion; a clickbeetle firebreather; a lestes tightrope walker, a paper wasp strongman; and -

"Hey!" said Slim suddenly. "Isn't that Tuck and Roll?"

Sure enough, one of the pictures was of two young pillbugs balancing on a cannon.

Gypsy frowned and looked around in time to see Tuck and Roll peeking around the weed. She remained silent.

"It is clear to your performers," said Farkas smoothly, rolling up the poster and whisking it back under his wing like a magic trick. "I shall be collecting my property...now."

"Vat?" blurted Heimlich. "Oh no, they are not - "

"I'll handle this, Heimlich," said P.T. evenly. "Look Gruesome," he addressed the serene cockroach, "those pillbugs are _mine_. They work for P.T. Flea's Circus now, so beat it, _cappish?_"

"I have their contracts," answered Farkas, pulling two sheets of paper out from under his other wing and holding them out. "These, of course, are merely copies. But as you can see, they have been signed as well."

"Yeah? So what! ...P.T.!" Francis told the flea, "just show 'em _your_ contracts for them."

P.T. trembled. "Um..._my_ contracts?" he repeated.

Rosie gasped. "P.T.!" she said. "Didn't you ever have them sign contracts?"

The flea was flustered. "They didn't understand anything I said!" he cried defensively. "I was lucky to get them in the ring at all!"

Farkas handed the contracts to P.T., who took them numbly. "You are a true businessman, Mr. Flea . It is decided, yes? My performers shall return to my circus?"

Everyone looked expectantly at P.T. He fidgeted for a bit, then at last simply sighed. "Oh...I guess so - Hey!" he told the others. "Don't give me that look! I can't do anything about it!"

"Well?" prompted Farkas.

"Yeah yeah," grumbled P.T. He looked around. "Where'd those two get to?"

Farkas looked over his shoulder. "Izo!" he barked.

A massive tarantula - the one from the poster - scuttled around the tent in response to the summons. Farkas nodded to Izo, and then to the weed. Izo nodded back, marched up to the weed, reached in, and yanked out the two surprised pillbugs by their antennae.

"_Boyos!_" said Farkas amiably, walking up to the two dangling and frightened-looking pillbugs. "_Tookva! Roolna! Htse havva sarkxi lan!..Gre tula jenkli fisi._"

Tuck clasped two of his hands together. "_Kretla fre - _" he began, but Farkas silenced him with a sharp look. "_Tuja krenki forna_," the cockroach told Izo. In response the tarantula tucked the pillbugs under his well-muscled arms and turned to go.

"Hey!" cried Rosie, and Dim took a menacing step towards the tarantula. "What do you think you're doing?"

Farkas took a leisurly drag on his cigarette. "I am collecting my performers," he explained a moment later, blowing smoke in Rosie's direction. "They are mine. I have their contracts; they belong to _me_. Izo!" He turned and walked away from the tent. The tarantula followed silently.

Rosie ran after them. "You can't take them without letting us say goodbye!" she said firmly, fury at her friends' treatment edging her voice.

Farkas stopped, but motioned Izo to continue away from the tent and into the surrounding grass. "Very well," he said, reaching under a wing and pulling out a stack of small paper scraps. "Please, attend our show. You shall see your former companions there. I promise you a performance you will never forget."

Rosie took the tickets and stared at them for a moment as Farkas turned and resumed his retreat into the grass. She threw the tickets down in anger. "Did you see what they did?" she cried, whirling on the others.

Manny put his hands to his face. "I've never _seen_ such brutality!" he remarked.

"P.T., there must be _something_ you can do," Gypsy implored.

P.T. just headed back into the tent, although he drooped a little. "Business is business," he said shortly, and disappeared from sight.

"How terrible." Slim sat despondantly on a foilball. "They did not look happy at all to rejoin their former ringmaster."

"That's because he is obviously a brute," said Rosie between clenched teeth.

"What about the Solstace?"

"Ya," Heimlich said, turning to Dim. "We will neffer again have a Solstace with Tuck and Roll."

"Not to mention," said Manny, "we will never have another payday celebration with them."

"We won't get to watch them confuse P.T.," sighed Gypsy.

"Yeah or place bets on which will win a fistfight - What?" demanded Francis as everyone glared at him.

"We haf to get them back!" insisted Heimlich.

Slim shook his head. "How?" he asked. "You heard P.T., they never signed contracts for this circus, and apparently their contracts with Mr. Farkas are still good."

"But how do we know that?" Rosie put her hands on her hips. "None of us can read Hungarian. What if Farkas is lying? We still don't know under what circumstances Tuck and Roll left his circus."

Manny slowly collected the tickets Rosie had discarded on the ground. "That is true," the mantis said. "But we do know what condition they were in when they joined this one."

Gypsy clasped her hands together. "The poor things. They were half starved, and so unhappy...do you remember?"

Rosie nodded. "I remember," she said. "And I think a few things have been explained." She walked over to Manny and took the tickets from him. "I think some of us should go check things out for ourselves."

Francis yawned. "Tomorrow, okay?"

The black widow agreed. "Definitely tomorrow."


	2. Chapter Two

**Foreign and Domestic**  
a _Bug's Life_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read

_**Chapter Two**_

**VLAD FARKAS' GREATEST BUG CIRCUS IN THE WORLD  
EXCITEMENT, DEATH-DEFYING ACTS OF BRAVERY  
ONE WEEK ONLY, PURCHASE TICKETS NOW**

"Very nice," remarked Slim as he, Francis, Heimlich, and Rosie read the flyer. "They forgot: 'And we're _so_ much better than P.T.'s silly little circus too.'"

"Come on," said Rosie. They approached the red and purple tent.

"Excuse us," Heimlich timidly addressed the hunched-over clickbeetle who was standing outside, polishing a plastic toothpick sword on a piece of grass. "May we please see our friends - "

"Rraghh!" roared the clickbeetle. Heimlich squealed in fright and hid behind Slim.

The clickbeetle chuckled amusedly, and Francis stormed up to him.

"Listen, pal," he growled. "Either you let us in there, or there's gonna be some _real_ trouble, get it?"

"_I_ get it," rumbled another voice. P.T.'s performers whirled around. The paper wasp standing there cracked his knuckles. "Real trouble is my favorite hobby."

The circus bugs stared at the paper wasp in surprise for a moment. He was simply the oddest-looking bug they had ever seen. Like all wasps, he had a delicate, pointed face, and a thread-thin waist; but his abmodmen, thorax, and limbs were so swollen with muscles that the overall effect was both disturbing and impressive at the same time. The wasp strode forward. "I trust Ciki here was not..._bothering_ you..._litsa?_" He directed the end of his question to Rosie, with what could only be called a lustful smile playing across his pointed face. He reached for her hand, but she shied away.

"Ah, forgive my impertinance," smirked the wasp, straightening up. "I have not yet introduced myself. I am Bozme, greatest strongbug this world has ever seen, and ever will see."

Francis rolled his eyes.

"You have met my companion Ciki," the wasp went on, motioning towards the clickbeetle, who was leaning on his sword and regarding the party with barely concealed interest. "He does not speak English. But _I_ - " he leaned back towards Rosie - "_do_." He winked. Rosie stepped backwards.

"We came to see Tuck and Roll," she said evenly.

"Ah!" Bozme exclaimed, straightening up again. "Our little estranged trapeze act! You must be from the flea's circus, yes?"

"Yes," confirmed Slim. "Can you direct us to - "

"Now why would you want to see _them_," interrupted the wasp, sidling up to Rosie, "when you could allow _me_ to give you a tour of our fabulous circus? I could show you..." he paused, "...the scorpion - Unless, of course, your companions - " here he looked pointedly at the clowns - "are _afraid_...?"

"Hey!" shouted Francis. "You calling us cowards?"

"Francis, no!" warned Heimlich. "Ve came to see Tuck and Roll - "

"Yeah but this guy's a jerk," grumbled the ladybug.

Slim put a hand on Francis' shoulder. "All the better reason to ignore him," the walkingstick said firmly.

"We _came_ to see our friends," announced Rosie, drawing herself up to her full height and looking Bozme in the eye. "Nothing else."

Bozme hesitated, clearly surprised by the spider's courage and determination. Then he relaxed and his smirk returned. "Certainly,_litsa_," he said warmly. "But we do not want the tent to become too crowded, yes? You will come with me, and your escorts shall remain outside."

"But - " began Heimlich.

"Outside," repeated Bozme, not turning around.

"Stay out here, you guys," sighed Rosie, who didn't want to blow their chance of anyone getting to see Tuck and Roll at all.

The clowns grumbled in reluctant agreement, and Bozme led Rosie inside the dark tent. Ciki went back to polishing his sword and grinning sinisterly at the trio, who retreated a good foot away to sit and wait.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

"Welcome to our humble little Big Top." Bozme tried to get Rosie to take his arm as they walked and she admantly refused. "It is not flashy but it has seen many a grand performance," he went on, still grinning. "Ah yes," he said, stopping in his tracks, "the very canvas has eyes."

Rosie stopped as well, and peered around the dark tent. Bozme may have been more right than he realized; Rosie felt like she was being watched. She sighed. "Where are - "

"Tookva and Roolna, yes," Bozme finished for her shortly. "Must things always come back to them? Come, let me show you the scorpion. Surely a black widow spider thrives on danger." He looked into her eyes. "And our scorpion is _very_ dangerous."

"I'm sure." Rosie looked around. "Well, if your tour only involves the wildlife I will just have to show myself around. Good bye." And she scuttled off.

Bozme started to go after her, then paused. He watched Rosie disappear into the shadows. "_Litsa_," he grinned to himself, glad Rosie didn't know quite what that word implied. He lingered there in the darkness.

Rosie rounded the dusty cannon and slowed down, treading carefully. The interior of the huge tent was very dark and she didn't want to trip on anything...

Unfortunately she tripped on something anyways. "_Ouch!_" cried the something. "_Hetva skri froko!_"

"Uh - I'm sorry," apologised Rosie, climbing back to her feet. Looking around, she saw the source of the voice: an aged female lestes, lounging against the cannon.

"Sorry, hah," grumped the lestes in broken English. "Everyone, always sorry." She sat there on the ground, barely propped up. "I used to be sorry," she went on. "No more." She frowned at Rosie. "Who're you?"

"I'm...I'm Rosie," responded the black widow hesitantly. "I - I came to see Tuck and Roll. Do you know where they are?" The lestes blinked. "Uh...Tookva and Roolna?" clarified Rosie.

The lestes' eyes widened a bit. "Ah!" she said. "Yes! Our little lost _boyos_. Yes, they are here."

Rosie heaved a sigh of relief - perhaps someone was finally going to help her find her friends. "Can you tell me where - " she began, but the lestes cut her off.

"Yes, old Bovli has lived to see the day little Tookva and Roolna were caught. Bah," she spat in the dust. "If they could only have stayed away from the trapeze they would have lived happy. But no, the circus is in their blood. Is a shame."

Rosie frowned. "What...what do you mean?"

Bovli bobbed her wrinkled head. "I mean they run away, they get caught, end of fairy tale." The lestes coughed and settled back against the cannon. "It wasn't the first time, but I wager it's the last. Farkas won't let them go again so easily. Although they were smart this time, eh? They crossed a whole ocean. But not good enough."

Rosie was getting a dismal idea of what was going on. "They'd run away before?" But she went on before Bovli could answer. "Where are they now?"

Bovli waved a hand towards the back flap of the tent. "Out there," she responded shortly. "They are working."

Rosie nodded and headed toward the back flap, but came up short when a hand shot out of the darkness and clamped onto her arm.

"You _will_ see the scorpion now, _litsa_."


	3. Chapter Three

**Foreign and Domestic**  
a _Bug's Life_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read

_**Chapter Three**_

Francis jumped up. "That's it, I'm going in there." He started forward, keeping a wary eye on Ciki, who had lost interest in the trio and had put all his concentration into polishing his sword. Slim jumped after him.

"Are you insane?" hissed the walkingstick. "I don't think your head would fare very well against that sword."

Francis grunted. "Old Beady-Eyes wouldn't try anything," he said, wishing he could feel as sure of himself as he sounded. "I'll get us in." He walked forward again. Slim and Heimlich glanced at oneanother and held back.

"Ahem," said Francis loudly, stopping at Ciki's elbow.

The clickbeetle looked down in surprise, then leaned over Francis, growling.

"Yes yes, the weather _has_ been very nice," responded the ladybug, pretending that he had understood Ciki. "But I think it might rain later." He put a hand behind his back and beckoned at Slim and Heimlich, who reluctantly came forward.

"But enough meteorology," went on Francis, picking up three small pebbles. "It's showtime!" He started juggling enthusiastically.

"Ja!" said Heimlich quickly, attempting to play along. He grabbed a leaf off of the ground and hastily fashioned a representation of a flower from it. He handed it to Ciki who took it in confusion.

"Stop me if you've heard this one," said Slim. "What's got bad breath, no manners, and flies? Your circus!"

The three clowns snickered. Ciki blinked uncomprehendingly at them.

"Thank you, thank you, you've been a great audience," said Francis, and he threw the three stones into the air. They fell in succession on Ciki's head. The clickbeetle never had a chance to get over his confusion before being knocked unconcious.

"And that's how we get in," said Francis smugly. He led the way into the tent.

Once in, however, they were forced to stand still due to the darkness.

"Would it kill them to hire a firefly?" muttered Slim.

"Sh - Listen," hissed Heimlich.

They listened. Further into the darkness of the tent, they could hear an odd scuttling. Suddenly, someone cried out.

"Rosie!" cried Slim, lunging forward. He stumbled right over a coil of string and landed on his face. Francis tripped over the walkingstick and wound up in a similar position. Heimlich, who had wisely started forward a bit more slowly, inched around them.

"Come on, hurry!" the butterfly urged.

Slim and Francis groaned at him, but managed to get up.

The three clowns pressed on and reached a dimly-lit corner of the tent. They could make out Izo, the tarantula who had carried Tuck and Roll off earlier, standing on the top of a large spool holding a bootlace whip. Hovering in the air above him was Bozme, grinning madly.

"There's Rosie," announced Slim, pointing to the spider, who was crouched on the ground in front of Izo's spool. She was staring into the shadows.

"All right you," said Francis, storming up next to Rosie and glowering up at the tarantula. "What's going on here?"

"Francis look _out_," warned Rosie, but it was too late.

A shiny black scorpion charged out of the shadows, her carapace making the scuttling noise the clowns had heard earlier. She screamed like a cougar and snapped her claws at the ladybug.

Francis had never before been menaced by a scorpion, and frankly he didn't know quite how to react. So he stood there, horrified, while Rosie tried to yank him out of the way.

Above, Bozme started laughing fit to kill.

Rosie and Francis cowered against the spool. When the scorpion was within a hairs-breadth of clamping her claws around Rosie's thorax, Izo snapped his whip. The scorpion drew back with a hiss and seemed content enough to retreat.

"_Vinka! Broot!_" roared Bozme.

In compliance with the wasp's orders, Izo continued to snap his bootlace at the scorpion, who squealed in protest and backed up some more. Not finished with this game, Bozme darted down and claimed possession of the bootlace and began to whip the scorpion himself. The scorpion retreated, still squealing.

Rosie was infuriated. "Stop that," she told Bozme, her face flushing red with anger. "Leave her alone."

"That thing tried to kill us," Francis reminded the spider.

But Rosie didn't like seeing the scorpion whipped. "I said _stop_ - "

"Listen to the lady. Enough."

Bozme froze, his whiphand high in the air, as Farkas stepped into view behind the scorpion. "Szara has had enough rehearsing for today," the cockroach went on. "Izo. Put her back in her cage."

Bozme had the whip snatched out of his hand by the tarantula, who drove the scorpion back into the shadows.

"Bozme. I believe it is time for you to rehearse your own act." Farkas waited patiently while the wasp - with an oily glance back at Rosie - flew off. "Now. Miss..?"

"R...Rosie."

"Miss Rosie. You have come to see your friends, have you not?"

Francis stepped forward. "You bet your sweet - " Slim elbowed him and he changed his tune. "Yeah," he ended up saying.

"Then come with me." Farkas strode off, into the darkness.

Rosie and the clowns looked at eachother in surprise. Why would Farkas be so eager to lead them to Tuck and Roll if his performers were not? But, lacking a choice, they followed the roach through the blackness between objects they could not begin to identify, and finally out the tent's back flap into the sunlight.

"They are there," said Farkas simply, pointing with his cane towards a pile of bark chips about a foot away. And without another word he spread his transluscent wings and flew off, over the tent.

They found Tuck and Roll chopping bark for firewood. The pillbugs were overjoyed to see them and ran up to them, jabbering excitedly.

"Well, they seem all right," remarked Slim, putting a hand on Roll's head in a friendly pat.

"Yeah. I was half expecting them to be...I dunno, chained to a wall," agreed Francis.

Heimlich shook his head. "They should be vith _us_," he insisted. "These people do not like them."

"But I'm not sure there's anything we can do," said Rosie, then paused. Tuck and Roll clearly knew their friends were sad, and had stopped their cheerful chatter to blink at them. The spider made a big show of smiling and looking happy, and that seemed to help. "I'm sure everything will be fine," she said, although she wasn't herself convinced. "You know what, I think we _should_ go to that show tonight."

"Ja. Maybe it will be...fun."

Slim snorted. "Fun like trying to talk P.T. into a raise."

"Yeah, let's go," said Francis suddenly. "I want to see if this Farkas guy is really such a hot-shot. And maybe Tuck and Roll's act won't work out for him or something, and he'll let them go. Well, maybe!" he sputtered as the others looked at him.

Rosie nodded. "Okay. We'll see if P.T. will consider cancelling our show tonight so we can go."


	4. Chapter Four

**Foreign and Domestic**  
a _Bug's Life_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read

_**Chapter Four**_

"You want me to do _what?_ So you all can do _what??_"

"He's not taking it vell," Heimlich whispered to Slim, who covered his face with his hands.

P.T., purple in the face, stood outside his office surrounded by his performers. "How can you all come to me, tell me you want to cancel our show - and not only _that_, but you want to cancel it so you can go to - " He swallowed. "The _other_ circus in town?"

"P.T.," pleaded Gypsy, "Tuck and Roll are like...well, family members. That kind of makes Farkas' circus...er, relations." She tried to ignore the looks of disgust most of the others displayed at that comment.

The flea stood in silence a minute, the others watching him cautiously. Finally, he waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, all right," he says. "I guess it's just as well. I do have a project I could work on."

Francis frowned in confusion. "You? A project? What kind?" The ladybug stepped back at the glower P.T. threw at him.

"The kind meant to improve this circus, Spots." P.T. folded his arms. "Okay, all of you, go on. And _don't_ buy any concessions there!" he shouted after them as they turned to leave. "No need to give them your monetary business - those passes were free, you know. ...Never thought I'd live to see the day," muttered the flea as he retreated back inside his office.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Slim looked around. "P.T. would have a conniption if he saw this," he pointed out.

"Ja. Ve neffer get an audience like this." Heimlich watched as the stands got fuller by the second. "Efferyone in town is here!"

"It's only because our show was cancelled," said Gypsy firmly. "At least half of these bugs would be across town with us if it hadn't."

Manny nodded. "Too true, my dear."

"Sh, it's starting," mumbled Francis around a piece of popcorn he had bought despite P.T.'s warning.

Farkas stepped out into the center ring, and the show began. First up was Ciki, who awed the audience with his swordswallowing act. He finished up by lighting a match and spewing fire out over the stands. ("He must be warming up the crowd," Slim commented, and got punched in the arm by Francis.)

Then Bozme strode out into the ring and bench-pressed an entire pot of mustard. Gypsy was seen to swoon a little - thankfully not by Manny.

"I'll admit this circus is more...exciting than ours," whispered Rosie to Dim as Bozme swaggered off.

"But ours is fun," responded Dim morosely.

Next up was Izo and Szara. The tarantula, whip flashing, drove the scorpion around the ring several times, then up onto a spool, where she stood, snapping her pincers impressively. The audience squealed and cringed, and Dim sniffled sadly. Rosie patted him sypathetically. A few more tricks, and the act was over.

"And now," boomed Farkas through a megaphone as Izo and Szara made their exit, "the lovely and agile Bovli will traverse the highwire without a net."

The crowd looked up to spot the lestes, her wings bound behind her back, step onto the highwire. At her advanced age, she looked neither lovely nor agile. Farkas must have been using the same introduction for decades.

"My goodness," whispered Gypsy, eying the fragile-looking Bovli, "isn't that dangerous?"

"That's the _point_, Gypsy," Slim told her, irritated. "That Farkas is a madman."

"But the audience is enjoying it," Heimlich pointed out.

"That's not enjoyment, that's a cold sweat," grunted Francis.

Bovli reached the other end of the highwire and the audience erupted into relieved applause.

"But that is not all, ladies and gentlemen," announced Farkas immediately. "Vlad Farkas' Greatest Big Circus in the World is proud to announce the return of two of its most famous performers, the twin pillbugs, Tookva and Roolna!"

"There they are!" hissed Rosie as the pillbugs rolled into the ring and popped open.

"Ooh, I'm afraid to vatch!" whimpered Heimlich, covering his eyes with his hands. "I know it's going to be a dangerous act!"

"Our daring pillbugs will defy death as they hurtle through the Rings of Fire and over the Wall of Needles!"

Slim frowned. "Say, this sounds rather familiar."

Heimlich just trembled. "Tell me ven it's over," he whined.

Ciki reemerged into the ring, and breathed some fire at a pair of hoops Bovli had lowered from the top of the tent. They blazed up, soliciting an "oooh!" from the audience.

"Yeah well, what about this Wall of Needles thing?" Francis demanded.

Bozme appeared, toting a large piece of cardboard with about a hundred needles sticking through it. He stood it up just a few inches from one of the flaming hoops.

"There is no possible way they could avoid hitting that!" protested Manny, turning greener than usual.

Gypsy wrung her hands. "They're going to get killed!"

"Ve should stop ze act!" announced Heimlich, not uncovering his eyes.

Tuck and Roll loaded themselves into the cannon, which Ciki aimed at the row of hoops. Bozme, his mustard pot held over his head, stepped up beside the cannon's bulb.

"No! No! Cancel the act!" cried Slim, waving his arms frantically.

But it was too late. Bozme dropped the mustard pot onto the bulb, and the pillbugs shot out. They zoomed through the Rings of Fire...

"Oh _no!_" screamed Rosie, cringing.

...and at the last second uncurled themselves, just missing the Wall of Needles and landing deftly on their feet on the other side.

There was silence under the Big Top for several seconds, then the audience burst into wild cheering. P.T.'s performers slumped in their seats with a groan.

"Now I'm _really_ glad P.T. can't see this," grunted Slim.

"Is it over?" sniffled Heimlich behind his hands.


	5. Chapter Five

**Foreign and Domestic**  
a _Bug's Life_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read

_**Chapter Five**_

"That was the single most harrowing experience I think I've ever had to endure," Slim was complaining as they approached their own tent.

"I cannot believe that stingy cockroach wouldn't even let us _visit_ Tuck and Roll after the show," added Manny in a huff. "The audacity."

"But we got more free passes."

Slim glared at Francis. "You couldn't _pay_ me to go back there," he growled.

Heimlich nodded. "Ja, and ve vill have to perform tomorrow night. Ve von't be able to go."

Rosie threw her hands in the air. "What would be the point in performing?" she demanded. "You saw that crowd. They were _gushing_ over Farkas' circus. Do you really think _we'll_ get any business before they leave town?"

"What should we do?" Dim asked her.

Rosie paused. "I think...I think we should go back," she said. "Tuck and Roll are our friends, and we don't know how many times we'll be able to see them before...they're gone. This could even be our _last_ chance."

The others were silent as they stepped inside the tent. As unpleasant as it was, the spider could well be right.

"I'm going to tell P.T. right now that we're going to have to cancel another show," said Slim solemnly, and he knocked at the flap of the flea's office.

P.T. poked his head out. He looked exhausted. "You yahoos back already?" he asked tiredly.

"P.T.," said the walkingstick in his most forceful tone, "I'm afraid to inform you that - "

"Oh hey, before I forget," the flea interrupted, scratching his back distractedly, "I'm cancelling tomorrow's show. Yeah, I know you're all disappointed," he went on, seeing the confusion on the others' faces. "But I thought I'd go and catch that Farkas' shindig. If anyone wants to tag along, they can. Now, I've gotta go get some shut-eye." He disappeared back into his office.

Slim blinked. "Uh, take...that," he said dazedly.

"Vell, that vas easy," said Heimlich cheerfully. "Good night."

The rest of the circus bugs bid eachother good night as well, and wandered off to bed.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

"Boo! Boo! Get off the stage, ya phony!!"

The circus bugs stared at P.T. in horror as Ciki paused in his firebreathing act to look around for the heckler. "You want to make us roasty-toasty?" hissed Francis.

P.T. leaned back in his seat. "Ah, they wouldn't do anything to us, we're paying customers."

"P.T., these passes were free."

The flea glanced over at Rosie and said nothing.

Slim leaned forward. "P.T., you have done nothing but shout at the performers ever since the show began," he whispered to the flea. "Surely you must concede that they aren't _that_ bad?"

"Effen if they are all horrible jerks," added Heimlich.

P.T. shrugged as Ciki finished his act and tromped out of the ring. "Eh," he said simply. The others blinked at him.

Farkas appeared suddenly out of the shadows behind the group, startling Gypsy and Dim quite badly. "You do not seem to be enjoying my circus, Mr. Flea," he addressed P.T. shortly.

P.T. waved a hand dismissively in his direction. "I've seen better acts at the dump," he replied.

The others stared in stunned silence, broken only by Francis' comment to Manny, "We're doomed."

Farkas paused, then forced a smile. "No doubt you are the expert," he said. "I trust you will not be so disruptive during the scorpion trainer's act? That could prove rather...oh I don't know...bad."

Heimlich eeped. "Bad?"

The flea didn't seem concerned. "I only state what I see," he shrugged.

When Farkas returned to the ring to introduce Izo and Szara, the circus bugs practically pounced on P.T.

"What on Earth do you think you are _doing_, P.T.?" Rosie demanded through clenched teeth. "These people are dangerous! Why are you egging them on?"

The flea wriggled away. "Hey hey hey, relax," he grumped. "You're all way too touchy." In a way, he seemed to be enjoying himself. "I know what I'm doing."

P.T. was indeed disruptive during the scorpion's act, and by this time, the rest of the audience was highly irritated and didn't seem to be enjoying themselves very much. Farkas could be seen seething in the shadows, just out of the center ring. The flea's employees fidgeted and looked at eachother nervously. Farkas' bunch were a tough group, and they didn't want to get jumped and pounded on on their way home.

Finally, after poor Bovli got heckled nearly to death by P.T., it was Tuck and Roll's turn to perform.

"P.T.," growled Francis. "You can't seriously consider heckling Tuck and Roll. They're our _friends_. This may be the last time we see them, so keep it zipped, okay?"

But P.T. didn't seem to be listening. "Who are _these_ yahoos?" he yelled as the pillbugs rolled into the ring. "I didn't come here to see a couple of BB's roll around!"

P.T.'s troupe was aghast. "P.T., how _dare_ you!" cried Rosie.

"Ja, P.T., you might yell at us backstage but neffer...neffer in front of the audience!"

The flea hopped away from Heimlich so the butterfly couldn't grab him. "Boo!" he yelled at the pillbugs, drowning out Farkas' introduction. "Is this what we paid for? I could go see better acts under a rock! Boo!"

At this point, a large point of the audience had had enough. Grumbling and muttering, they stood and began filing out of the tent.

Farkas positively raged. Spreading his long wings, he fluttered right up into the stands among the flea's performers, who scattered. The cockroach prodded P.T. menecingly in the chest with the handle of his cane.

"You imbecilic little blood-sucker," he snarled, the image of fury. "Look what you have done! The audience is leaving!"

P.T., in an impressive show of bravery, stood his ground. "Oh my," he said in mock surprise. "So they are. It doesn't look as if they like your little tumbling act, Mr. Farkas. Perhaps you should fire them."

Farkas gave P.T. a shove, knocking the tiny bug down. "I will _not_ fire them!" he roared, brandishing the pillbug's contracts - the originals this time - from under a wing. "They are mine! It was _you_ who drove off the audience!"

At this point Tuck and Roll, confused, wandered over to stand nearby.

The flea picked himself up and made a big show of brushing himself off. "Oh no," he said evenly. "That's not the way it works. Maybe you should reread those fancy contracts of yours, pal."

Farkas drew a blank, as did P.T.'s performers. "What in blazes are you talking about?" the cockroach demanded.

P.T. reached out and plucked one of the contracts from Farkas' hand. "Right here, and as I translated with the help of a dictionary or two: _Employment of the undersigned is subject to immediate termination in the event of the majority of any audience's departure during said party's act._ Harsh words but there they are. Good thing I don't have a stipulation like that in _my_ employees' contracts or I'd have to fire them every show!"

The news that Tuck and Roll would be fired from Farkas' circus was too good for any of P.T.'s performers to be jilted at that last comment. They began to cheer. The pillbugs sensed something had turned in their favor and they joined in. Farkas, meanwhile, was not amused, but he favored P.T. with a wry smile.

"You did your homework," he conceded dryly. "All right." He turned to Tuck and Roll, who immediately sobered up. Farkas said something to them, and they gaped at him, then at eachother, stunned.

P.T. coughed. "Poor guys, I don't envy them," he said, to no one in particular. "Being out of work is tough. I wonder who will take them in?"

The performers cheered some more, and Tuck and Roll rushed to the flea's side and each gave him a hearty kiss, on either cheek.

P.T. spluttered. "Hey!" he roared. "Don't ever do that again or I'll dock you a week's wages! Speaking of wages," he added suddenly, "you two will be starting at groundlevel pay again. You don't mind, do you?"

As the ten bugs left to spend the Solstace together, Farkas stood, alone, in the stands, watching them go. Slowly and deliberately, he tore the pillbugs' contracts into tiny bits and let them fall like confetti among the ordinary concession trash. "You _are_ a true businessman, Mr. Flea," the cockroach murmured, before stepping back into the shadows.


End file.
